Rain pounds harder now over the awning at the doorstep.
How will I respond, if a man tries to fight me?
If he tries to fuck me, instead?
I don’t let myself think about it too hard this time, otherwise I’ll walk off shaking again like I’m a scared kid running from a haunted house.
“Gather in the entry,” a man says, and the lights dim around the long bar at the edge of the room.
There are maybe forty or fifty people in this grand entryway. Curved staircases are on each end of the giant, circular room, and the low light from the chandeliers up high on the ceiling filters down onto us.
Everyone is masked. Many are in robes, some are in suits.
I’m wearing a Crimson College fleece hoodie beneath my suit jacket, and I will be keeping my hood up all night. I don’t care if I look like a freak with a mask onanda fleecy hood surrounding it, because there’s not a shot in hell I’m letting anyone recognize me here.
Especially Sev.
I’d already be on the ground if he knew I was here. I used to be confused about why Sevan Berlant hates me, but I think I get it now.
The simplest reason is that he thinks I fucked him over for an internship opportunity last year. I didn’t. I knew the CEO of the company thanks to my dear oldsoullessfather, and I protected Sev or anyone else from working for a company that was so corrupt it was almost predatory. Sev also thinks I deniedhim from entering an Onyx party early this year, when in reality I wasn’t letting anyone inside after a girl blacked out drunk was taken to the hospital.
Yes, I have a bad attitude with Sev.
Yes, I’ve broken up at least three fights he’s started at my parties, and I’ve thrown him out every single time he gets even a little bit violent. Sev doesn’t bother calling me “Frat Dad” and instead calls me the Sheriff of Crimson College, and even though he doesn’t mean it as a compliment, I still feel like I take my responsibilities seriously.
I like to do things properly.
Keep my shit in order.
And yes, beingmeis exhausting, too. Managing my own life, my schoolwork, and keeping the boys in the frat in line. In my house I don’t have to accept the type of petty violence that Sev craves like a drug.
I scan the room for Sev now but I can’t place him. No one’s sleeves are rolled up yet, and without seeing his tattoos it’s difficult to tell which one might be him.
I take a spot along the wall and I try not to look over at the man next to me. I can already tell he’s a fighter, judging by the scars and a mottled old bruise on the back of his hand.
Who the fuck am I surrounded by?
Only a minute passes before the man at the center speaks again.
Another guy with shaggy blond hair is standing at his side, now, too, wearing a long, velvety red robe.
“Welcome back to Zenith. Or, for the new attendees we have tonight, welcome home.”
He’s facing in my direction as he says it. I can’t tell if he’s looking at me, but I’m certain he knows I’m a newbie. My mask is more basic than the others here. It’s simple and shiny gold.
“For those newcomers, we only ask one thing: leave your other world at the door.”
The redheaded guy nods, looking right at me.
“We areprimal, here,” he says in a low, slightly raspy voice. “That is one of our only rules. We remain unchained. For the next four hours, you exist in a different world. Our other rule is easy: no masks come off. There will be consequences if that rule is broken.”
My heart’s still pounding like it’s trying to launch itself through my upper ribcage, but I’m ignoring it.
No reason anyone has to know I don’t belong.
I wasn’t even ready to let that truth out until the past year.
The part of me that looks at men differently. Noticing men, every place I go. Fuckingfixatingon men in ways that make me feel like an animal, when it’s wildly inconvenient and my cock responds to things in ways I’m utterly unable to control.